A Hetalian's Christmas Carol
by Hanaryme
Summary: Join Arthur Kirkland as he is visited by 3 spirits of the past, present and future, in order to get the Christmas spirit and redeem himself. A rewrite of Dicken's Christmas Carol, some changes in the plot in order to make room for shippings and romance. FrUk, SuFin, USUK, GerIta. Warning: Humbugs and suggested themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Here is the first chapter of my rewrite of "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens, as you all already know. All chapters should be written and updated either in the rest of this day of some on Christmas. (CHRISTMAS HYPE GUYSSSSS) You may recognize some sayings or lines from the original novel, if you've read it, as I've tried to keep the soul of the original novel as best as I can, though it certainly is hard for me to try and write it in a similar manner ^^'**

**This should be in 5 parts I believe, 3 for the spirits of course. I do hope you enjoy this, as I certainly enjoyed writing it.**

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><p>Arthur Kirkland's beliefs were dead, and there is no doubt whatever about that. He sat at his oak desk, filling in papers upon papers of work without even a hint of Christmas spirit in his establishment. Yes, it was believed that Kirkland, owner of riches and power was completely heartless and had shown no sign of a smile in at least a decade. The workplace was deathly silent, the only noise breaking such silence was the quills touching parchment; that is until, a large crash was heard, the door hitting the wall adjacent to it quite violently.<p>

"Halloa Mr. Kirkland!" A voice called out, Arthur grimaced, knowing whom that voice belonged to. "A merry Christmas to you, sir" the tanned man greeted, his dark brown hair in its usual mess, his bushy eyebrows (a common trait among the Kirkland family) raised not in annoyance but joy, it almost disgusted the gentleman.

"Bah Humbug!" said Arthur, moving back to his chair. "Boy, how many times must I tell you I care not for such things?"

"Aww don't be such a Scrooge!" Christian chuckled. "Well, how fare you this Merry Christmas, uncle?" Arthur was the youngest of the Kirkland brothers, and it would surprise many to believe Christian, a happy-go-lucky chap would even be related to the grumpy, gloomy Brit let alone be of similar age.

"Merry Christmas?! What utter nonsense, what reason would you have to be merry? You're poor, child" he replied, teeth grinding, calling the other Kirkland a child though only a year or two younger.

"Ah but what reason do you have to be so boring and gloomy? You have property! Please, uncle, come join the family and I this holiday, we would be happy to have you..." The nephew pleaded, almost on his knees.

With no other comebacks or answers, he merely replied in the same tone as before. "Bah humbug!" at this point, the younger knew there was to be no further debate and stood straight, placing his cap back on his head before nodding.

"Very well then, uncle, farewell." He sighed, before looking at the almost forgotten worker beside him. "And a very merry Christmas to you, Berwald."

"Thank you, mister Kirkland" The large man replied, before looking back at his work. The younger Kirkland simply left the building without another word. Arthur rubbed his forehead with his hands, oh how he hated this season with a burning passion...

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><p>The clock chimed at a time deemed appropriate to leave the workplace, and so Scro- I mean Arthur dismounted his chair and gathered his bags and coats, his clerk followed suit. The blue eyed assistant almost looked at him expectantly.<p>

"I suppose you wish to have the day off tomorrow, lad?" said Arthur.

"If at all possible, Sir." The tall blond replied, nodding slightly.

"It is possible...But not at all convinient, I must say!" the Gentleman began to put his coat on. "Christmas is an awfully poor excuse to have a day off..." Arthur muttered, continuing "But I suppose you may have it, though I expect you even earlier the day afterwards"

"Very well, sir. Merry- Good evening." The clerk went his seperate way, as Arthur went his, a large scowl on his face, you would not believe Kirkland was 26, his traits being those of an old grumpy man! The winter chill crawled up Arthur's spine, the night fog rolling in, it was very spooky indeed, and not at all a festive scene. He entered his house, and climbed the stairs to his chambers, the novel beside him being picked up once Arthur had retired to his bed. He began to read, though he could not help but to sense an onimous feeling in the air, his candle light flickering and dancing, but no wind was present to influence such behaviour. The Brit dared to look up, instantly regretting such actions, for what he had seen was beyond normal. In front of him was the image of his previous working partner, Gilbert Beilschmidt, a foreigner who had travelled to England to learn of their business and culture. It was him as he had remembered, his silvery short hair unstyled and all over the place, his waistcoat unbuttoned in a casual fashion, and the same characteristic expression on his face until from nowhere, large iron chains surrounded him, grasping him tightly and to even further secure their hold on the deceased man, locks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses wrought in steel held him tightly. Arthur knew his partner was always pale, however, this was to an all new level. His body was ever so transparent, wherever there was no chain to cover his spectral body, he could see the wall behind him clearly. Kirkland felt the intimidating and chilling gaze of Gilbert's blood red eyes, those eyes that once gazed at the countless amounts of money they had earned as a partnership now looked at him with such an expression, Arthur thought he would kill him right on the spot.

"W-What is this?" Arthur questioned bluntly, for once, he was left almost speechless and without clever comments.

"Your doom, Arthur." Beilschmidt claimed, a single finger pointing at Arthur as if it were a weapon. "In life, I was your partner. But now I am merely a representation of what you will be."

"Will be? What on earth are you talking about, spit it out!"

"See these chains which weigh me down?" Gilbert left no time for Arthur to answer "These are what we forged together, their weight is the burden we have to bear for our sins, I fear yours will be heavier, Arthur."

"Sins? But my dear old chap, we were business men together! You were one of the best!"

"Bah! Such business doesn't make up for our lack of charity and compassion, Arthur." Gilbert was straight to the point, no comfort put into his words. The chains which bound him appeared to have tightened, he screamed in pain. "Arthur, my time is near its end, your fate will be the same."

"My dear friend! Tell me, how will I stop this?!" Kirkland trembled, his voice faltering.

"You will be visited by 3 spirits tonight." His voice grew quiet and weak. "Without them, there is no chance of redemption and you shall never be able to shun the path I walk..." He began to fade into nothingness "Goodbye, Arthur..."

Arthur attempted to reach for his partner, a small cry escaping his mouth, he fell to the floor. He had not felt such fear and sorrow in quite some time. For the first time in his life, he prayed. Prayed this was all a dream. Prayed that this was not his fate. He crawled back into his bed, and prayed that the spirits would not come.

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><p><strong>Second chapter will be up VERY soon guys! Merry Christmas!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the ghost of Christmas past! This was written pretty quickly if I do say so myself, I hope you enjoy it. The ghost is Germany and initially he is seen as a child, I've took the idea that he was Holy Rome and made it so as the memories grow more recent, the ghost grows from Holy Rome to Germany, if this makes it any clearer.**

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><p>When Arthur woke up he was met with...nothing. It was so dark he could scarcely distinguish what was the view from the window and what was his wall. He knew it was completely useless to rely on his eyesight, so he awaited the chime to indicate the hour. Whenever he tried to resolve himself and get back into bed, the same thought crossed his mind and interfered with any hopes of such peace. He continued to ponder whether it was simply a dream or not. Tick. The clock's hands continued to cycle around the face however never quite meeting at the top, it almost brought Arthur to insanity, his patience had completely diminished, and fear and anxiety had overwhelmed him. Tock. The more Arthur had thought about the matter, the more perplexed he became, and the more he endeavored not to think, the more he thought. Gilbert's appearance had bother him exceedingly more than Kirkland was willing to admit, and ever will admit. The Englishman had decided upon waiting for the hour to pass, and once it has, it would all be over, and he would never have to bother to even think about the situation he MAY have been in ever again. Tick. The noise continued to echo on within his confused mind, he lay back down onto his mattress, one especially made and nobody else could afford, he would add; and he closed his eyes, relying entirely on his hearing. Tock. The time went so slowly he had convinced himself that he must have fell asleep at some point and had already missed the hour. The clock finally struck one, and he let out a sigh of relief.<p>

"Finally, the hour itself, and there is nothing to it." said Arthur triumphantly, as if he was not scared a mere 5 minutes ago. Though this tranquility was soon disturbed with a flash of a light, which drove Arthur to the edge of his bed in shock. It was a strange being which had appeared before him. It was like a child, small and frail, though his expression was that of a brave man. The unearthly being was very much like a normal child, his complexion still smooth and pale like all those young, a full head of golden blond hair but upon his face, he wore sky blue eyes which held sorrow and longing within them. Arthur could not believe this was reality and decided he would just go along with it.

"Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?" asked Arthur.

"Ja...Indeed I am." The child answered in an almost innocent voice. Its voice was gentle and soft, almost reminding Kirkland of his mother.

"And who are you?" Arthur demanded, yet attempted to remain polite, it only appeared to be a child afterall.

"I am the ghost of Christmas past" It explained, you would've expected such a holy being to wear white, yet it was cloaked in black and gold, a large hat matched its robes.

"The past?" Arthur questioned, what good would the past be?

"Your past, Arthur." It claimed.

"And how would you know of it?" Arthur grew more offended by the spirit, first it intrudes into his chambers and then it would dare to claim it knew of his past! "I did not intrude, you was warned I would come. And I know all of your past, your childhood, your friends, your past lover." it spoke in response to Arthur's thoughts, though Arthur did not dare to make a comment, anger and depression was all that was in the mind of Kirkland upon hearing anything involving the one he once loved.

"Take my hand, Arthur Kirkland." The spirit commanded, his hand in front of the Brit's face. "Rise, and walk with me."

"I am nothing but a mere man, spirit." Arthur stated. "I would surely fall!"

"Ah, but with a simple touch of my hand, and you shall soar." He explained. Arthur had taken his hand, and had soon found himself somewhere else completely, though not entirely unknown.

"Bloody hell!" Kirkland exclaimed, "I was bred in this place. I was a simple child here!" he felt nostalgia, and memories flooded back into his mind with each step in the snow on the ground.

"you remember this place well?" The spirit looked at Arthur with some amusement.

"Remember it?!" Arthur cried "I could walk it blindfolded!"

"Ah, such a strange thing for it to be forgotten for so long, is it not?" The spirit observed, shaking its head. "Come, let us continue."

The spirit showed him many things, the class rooms of the school Arthur had once been educated in, the rooms of the dorms he had once slept in and the hall he had once ate in.

"Dear spirit, why is it so empty?" Arthur questioned.

"It is Christmas, Arthur Kirkland." replied the spirit "The children have gone home to their families, though this school is all but empty, there is a child there." the boy raised his hand to point at another who was found sitting at a large table on his own, reading. Arthur remembered this, and his heart had dropped, there was a single solitary child who was left on his own, his parents had not come to collect him and he had to spend the holiday here in isolation. Kirkland sobbed.

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><p>"There is much more to show you, Arthur. Come." The spectral boy took his hand once more and Arthur had found himself in a large building with many others. It was Christmas still however much later on. "They cannot see us. They are simply shadows of the past." The boy explained, Kirkland nodded, he had noticed the spirit had somehow aged when they had traveled, he appeared taller and his features were much more defined.<p>

"My, look here spirit!" Kirkland grinned. "It is Ivan, I have not seen him in years!" The spirit smiled weakly. The silver haired man was on the balcony, cheering. He wore foreign clothes, most likely from his home-country. Though, the spirit turned Arthur around for that was not the focus of this memory. The Brit had turned to see himself again, however a little older than his other memory. He was 16, he had matured much since then, though he will tell you he has always been a gentleman. Arthur Kirkland frowned upon seeing what happened next. Another man around his age had approached his former self, wrapping him in a hug whilst he blushed faintly. Francis. The Frenchman dragged Arthur to the floor and began to dance with him.

"You look happy here, Arthur. Who is that man you are dancing with?" The spirit asked, even though he knew already, he wanted to hear the answer from the Englishman himself.

"Francis Bonnefoy...He...He was my lover at the time." Arthur looked at his past self with pity, as he kissed the other man. He knew what was to come, and the spirit knew that was the next time period to visit, and he grabbed Arthur's arm.

"Here we are, Arthur." The spirit, now a muscular man, with the same blond hair, only slicked back and the same piercing blue eyes.

"Spirit, why must you torture me so? I do not wish to see this." Arthur begged, tears in his eyes. Before him stood another Arthur of 18 years, with Francis once more, however this time, the scene was not so joyous.

"Mon Lapin, I have something to tell you" The Frenchman spoke, the other looked at him, his eyes were full of confusion yet love.

"Yes, Francis, what is it you wish to tell me?" Arthur smiled weakly, though in due time, that smile would be no more.

"You are a changed man, Arthur. Even you know this..." Francis explained, Arthur looked just as confused as he did a moment ago.

"Yes? But what has this got to do with anything?..." Arthur seemed a little disheartened.

"The new Arthur, this is not the one I had fallen for..." Arthur's heart had broken at that very moment, and he had fallen to his knees. "I am sorry, Arthur. Au revoir." Arthur had begun to cry.

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><p>"Spirit! Show me no more, conduct me home!" said Arthur, grabbing the spirit's robes.<p>

"Nein! One more shadow remains!" The ghost pinioned him in both his arm and forced him to observe what happens next.

They were in another place all together, a room which was significantly smaller than Arthur's chambers yet was full of warmth and comfort. Near the fireplace sat Francis, his former love though aged from the last time next to another, one he knows as Matthew. They sat close and held each other in their arms, their love was so sickly Arthur was sure he was going to be sick.

"Francis, I saw one of your old friends this morning..." Matthew whispered, though anybody close to their family knew this was his natural volume.

"Oui, who was it?"

"It was Arthur Kirkland, I heard that his business partner's health is declining and that Arthur will be quite alone in the world, I do believe." Matthew told Francis, the Frenchman dismissed anything he had heard regarding the Englishman and kissed the other briefly, the only words he spoke regarding that were "pity".

"Spirit"said Arthur in a weak and broken voice "remove me from this place, I wish to see no more of it. Take me away"

"They are what they are, Arthur, do not blame me." said the ghost.

"I cannot bare it." said Arthur. He looked to the ground. "haunt me no longer, I am done."

Arthur looked up to see he was once again in his chambers, he sighed. He was exhausted and had barely any time to return into bed before he fell into a deep slumber.

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><p><strong>It's probably pretty obvious who the ghost of Christmas present will be :P<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**It's the Ghost of Christmas past this time, and I decided that it would be Italy, because, why not? :)**

**Enjoy, the next couple of chapter will be uploaded soon.**

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><p>Once again Arthur awoke to the sound of the clock, it was just before one, as it was the previous time. He felt sorrow and heartbreak all over again with the help of the ghost of Christmas past, and he had high hopes. Hope that the next spectre would not be as harsh. Arthur was prepared for anything but he was not by any means prepared for nothing, the clock struck one once more, yet nothing happened. Was there only to be one spectre rather than the three Beilschmidt had claimed? Or perhaps they had given up on him and there was no chance of redemption. What he did not expect was that rather than the ghost coming to visit him, he was to visit the ghost himself. The border surrounding the door was engulfed by an amber light and Kirkland swore he could hear such beautiful melodies playing from beyond it. The idea that something was behind the door possessed him, he got up softly and shuffled in his mint bunny slippers to the door. The moment his small feminine hand had made contact with the door handle a sweet harmonic voice called for him and bade him enter, Arthur did as said. It was his spare room as he had expected however it had undergone a drastic change. Light and colour filled the room and such warmth the Scrooge thought he'd never had welcomed him with kindness. There were many reeves of holly and ivy, their leaves fresh and crisp and the scent of cinnamon and pine filled the Englishman's nostrils. All of these were foreign to the cold hearted man. In the centre of the finely decorated room was a large table with sophisticated and delicate carvings, furniture Kirkland was certain he did not own. The large table held many plates and bowls of vegetables, meats, fruits and...pasta? Though he did not question it as he raised his head to see a rather jolly spectre with Auburn hair and amber eyes, and a rather unusual curl which defied gravity.<p>

"Ciao, Arthur~!" The ghost sung, "Come in and know me better!"

Kirkland entered timidly and did not meet such kind eyes, he was afraid he would almost taint them with his own. The spirit chuckled and got up to shake the Englishman's eyes.

"Look upon me, my dear friend!" he cheered, Arthur couldn't say no to such a joyous character. "I am the ghost of Christmas Present!"

He looked different to the ghost of Christmas past, he was clothed in bright colours and almost looked like a king with such rich material. He looked completely human and almost the same age as Arthur, and showed no sign of abnormalities besides his over-energetic personality.

"You look at me as if I were an alien, why is that so?" The spirit asked, looking at him with his bright eyes.

"I have never seen somebody as finely dressed nor cheerful as you, spirit." he replied, there was no sign of hostility in his voice.

"Never? Have you not met any of my brothers then?"

"You have brothers?" Kirkland asked, he wondered if they were just as terrifying as his own.

"Yes, I have two fratellos!" He grinned proudly. He had a slight accent in his voice that he hasn't quite heard before, but it was clear he was not English. "So you have seen the past?"

"Yes, the last ghost made sure I had seen plenty of it" Arthur grimaced.

"Don't mind him, he's a really lovely man once you know him better!" The spirit commented, his cheeks turning a slight red. Arthur didn't question it.

"Well, conduct me where you will, old chap. And I shall follow. If you aught to teach me, let me profit by it." said Kirkland submissively.

"Very well!" The spirit smiled "Touch my curl! But be very careful with it!" He warned, he almost looked a little scared... And flustered once Arthur gently held it.

They were in the streets of London, the same roads Arthur had walked since he was a young businessman. It was lively, as per usual, however the people of London wore their gayest smiles and their Sunday best, after all, it was Christmas day! The spirit took great interest in those celebrating the pointless holiday and smiled upon seeing even the poorest of families share their food. It was said to be a shame to quarrel on Christmas, and so they didn't.

"Spirit, why is it that they do that?" Arthur questioned their generousity, as if he were a caveman discovering fire.

"because it is Christmas!" The spirit smiled, answering it as if it were the obvious "It is a time for giving!"

"But they are poor!" Arthur cried "They have nothing, so why would they give?"

"Because, they give to those they love and those who need it the most, Arthur." The ghost explained. Arthur noticed a man around his age with golden hair and blue eyes that almost reminded him of Francis, yet such dark memories did not cloud the man's image. He was poor, clearly. His clothes were tatty yet for some reason, he still gave those homeless every penny and every piece of bread he owned. He did recognise the boy, but was not certain of his name.

"That's Alfred Jones, he came to your house for donations yet you refused him." The spirit explained, Arthur felt bad now. If only he saw this beforehand, he may of-

"It's a bit too late to change the past, yet never to change what hasn't happened." The ghost interrupted his thoughts. Kirkland couldn't help but to look at the man in facination.

"Does he interest you, Arthur~?" The spirit giggled childishly, the man blushed in response, shaking his head...

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><p>They continued to walk down the street until they reached a small house. They peered through the small window and beyond it was a small man preparing dinner. He had blonde hair and violet eyes. By his legs there was a small dog, running around his feet, barking. This made him chuckle. Arthur turned his head to see a small boy hobbling inside the house, clutching a stick and behind him was...<p>

"This is Berwald's house!" Arthur claimed, the spirit nodded. He continued to observe the boy who struggled to sit on the chair, however his father lifted him up onto the chair.

"So how did little Peter behave?" The small man asked, turning around and smiling.

"Good as gold, m'wife." Berwald replied, kissing the man on the cheek. He was never one for words.

"We went to see the ducks today!" Peter replied, grinning "W-We...We fed them bread and we found a goose for dinner...But we didn't buy it..." he looked a little disheartened upon saying those words, and it almost upset Arthur.

"Oh? Was it too much money, dear?" Tino, Berwald's wife, asked.

"I'll get it later" Berwald answered, nodding.

"Really?" Peter asked, smiling before he broke into a fit of coughs and the whole house came to surround him. He soon stopped but it was clear he was running out of time. They tried to ignore this, and serve dinner as per usual.

"M-Merry Christmas!" he muttered, and once hearing this Arthur's heart sank, surely this could not happen to a poor child.

"Spirit" Arthur choked out, with an interest he never had before "tell me if poor Peter will live."

"I see a vacant seat, Arthur" The spirit frowned for the first time this night. "The child will die if these shadows remain unfaultered." The spirit and Arthur continued down the roads until they reached Christian's house. The family was happy and unlike Berwald's they had enough money to satisfy their needs. He didn't need to see this, and the ghost knew that too, they continued to watch as the family mocked Arthur, yet...Kirkland felt nothing. No hate. All that was on his mind was poor Peter and his family.

"I shall return you to your chambers" The spirit smiled weakly. The Englishman nodded.

"Very well..." the spirit was fading away, but Arthur needed more answers. "The third spirit, is he the ghost of the future?"

"I cannot say." the spirit shook his head, as he faded away into nothingness.

Arthur feared what was next to come, but without sleep this time, the third was to approach him as mist covered his floor and a figure began to approach him...l


	4. Chapter 4

**4th chapter is a little short but forgive me, I don't really like talking about death and gloomy stuff that much. But here you go!**

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><p>The phantom slowly approach Kirkland, his face completely emotionless and like the 1st spirit, he was clothed in all black, though the garnment looked oriental. He had coal black hair which came down to his jaw line and dark brown eyes that seemed to gaze intently upon the Englishman, he gulped. He knew nothing of what the spirit sounded like, as he did not speak. Kirkland broke the silence once the spirit ceased it's movement.<p>

"Are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" said Arthur. The spirit answered not, but pointed at the ground. "You are to show me what is yet to happen, are you not?" The spirit merely inclined his head, that was the only answer he received. The ghost simply continued to stare. "I fear you the most, great spirit. I know you are here to do me good, will you not speak?" Once again, he gave no reply, only walking out the door. Arthur's knees trembled in intimidation, yet he followed the Ghost. The streets of London were the same as he remembered, however those he saw had aged a little, even the Jones boy he had saw, and though will not admit, took an interest of had developed into a more matured male, around his 30s. Though the spirit continued on, without word. Until they reached a tavern, to which they entered, Arthur listened into the conversation.

"So he's really dead, my good sir?" A man asked, taking a sip of his brew.

"Aye, news got 'round that he died just this morning." another replied, the alcohol affecting his speech greatly.

"Why? What was wrong?" A louder man yelled "I thought we'd never get rid of the grumpy bastard!"

"God knows" The drunk replied, yawning.

"What will happen to his property?" The first man asked.

"Who knows, perhaps it will go to his workers. I doubt very highly that it would go to that nephew of his." A female bartender replied, wiping the bar.

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><p>"Spirit, who has died?" Arthur asked, suspicion filling his head. He didn't really expect a reply however. They continued onwards. Until they reached a hill covered in gravestones, gloom and gray skys only served to build the feeling of fear in the heart of Kirkland. They soon reached the top, Arthur had initially expected to see who it was they were talking about, however, they reached a rather small and plain stone, which left Arthur confused. That is, until he saw the small child-sized cane on the soil, he fell to his knees.<p>

"Oh my...Peter..." He sobbed, wiping the tears from his eyes, he did not know the child but had enough pity for his demise to break his heart once more. He hugged the cane as if it were the boy himself, and the spirit allow him to do so for a few minutes. "Spirit, I...I am ready, continue." Arthur nodded and the spirit turned, only to stop a few feet down to point at another grave, this one was much larger than Peter's and clearly belonged to somebody significantly richer. He already knew.

"Oh great spirit, is this...Is this tomb mine?" He asked, the spirit merely pointed at the stone again, Arthur moved towards it in horror, as he uncovered the words which were hidden with bramble.

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND"

No words were left other than his name, he shook his head in denial, this was surely not the way he would go, he cried "Spirit, can I change this?" grabbing onto the ghost's clothing. "I am a changed man, assure me I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life. I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!"

Arthur blinked and found himself back in his bed, fear, sorrow and pity overwhelmed him and he was left with nothing to do but sob.


	5. Chapter 5

**Writing 5 chapters in one day, woo! Here you go guys, I hope y'all have a super holiday and eat a lot of junk food!**

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><p>The bedpost was his own, so was the bed and the room, not to mention the time before him was his own to make amends in! He was so overjoyed for the first time in many years he did not notice the tears rolling down his face. He had made himself busy with dressing himself so he could get into the world, he was both laughing and crying with joy. He opened his window, the window he had leapt through when he was with the Ghost of Christmas past and he realised he was not sure how long he was among the spirits and upon seeing a small girl with also bushy eyebrows and curly brown hair he called from above.<p>

"Halloa! What day is this, child?" he grinned asking the child. The child's face shown clear confusion, wondering what on earth could possibly make the grumpiest man in London beam so happily.

"Today? Why, it is Christmas Day, sir" yelled the girl. Arthur cheered and ran down the stairs to meet the girl.

"My dear, would you care to do me a favour? See if the large prize turkey is still for sale, buy it for me and deliver it to Mister. Berwald's house, I will give you half-a-crown!" He handed the girl a sack of coins and she nodded gleefully and she was off like a shot. He made his way down the street and knocked the door to where the turkey was to be delivered. Tino opened it and was ready to greet Arthur until he saw that it was indeed him.

"Mr. Kirkland! You said he could have the day..." He scolded. Arthur chuckled.

"Indeed I did, and that I have gave him, a very merry Christmas to you all!" This shocked everybody in the house and whatever they were holding was dropped. He let himself in without asking and sat in the chair next to poor Peter.

"M-Merry Christmas to you, sir." Peter whispered in Arthur's ear, he grinned. Berwald approached him and gave him a questioning look.

"I am sorry, chap. I have nothing to offer your family at the moment. However, there is a surprise to come here soon and I am willing to take your son to the best doctor in London and pay for all expenses!" Berwald looked at Kirkland in disbelief.

"Really?" He asked, Tino came to stand beside his husband.

"Indeed." Arthur nodded, Tino wrapped him in a hug, something he never expected to give the rich man.

"It truly is Christmas!" Tino smiled, releasing Arthur and dancing around. "God bless you, Mister Kirkland!" They were interrupted by a parade of people who stormed into the house with masses of food including the large turkey. Arthur picked up Peter and let him sit on his shoulders.

"Come! Let us gather at my house, a merry Christmas to you all!" He repeated, carrying the boy and leading the group to his house...

"Mister Kirkland?" The man, who just so happened to be Alfred Jones, walked beside him, carrying the turkey.

"Yes, Alfred?" He asked.

"W-Would you be fine with inviting the children from the orphanage to your house? O-Of course, only if it is convenient to you, sir..." he muttered.

"Of course!" Arthur replied, Alfred smiled. "Only on one condition however!"

"W-What's that, sir?" gulped Alfred.

"If you join me for dinner as well" Arthur chuckled and winked at the now blushing male.

"Yes...I would like that!" Alfred pecked the now cheerful man's cheek, his turn to blush now.

Kirkland was better than his word. Poor Peter, who did not die, he became a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, as good a lover (To Alfred Jones, whom he successfully wooed), and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world**.**


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